Thursday, October 22, 2009

Observing Sakarra’s memory, he felt oddly relaxed even though it was nothing more than a memory. He got lose in the sky, as Sakarra began explaining something to him. He had heard a portion of it before coming back from far off and listened to the rest. “Sakarra, that memory…” he was going to say control him but stopped short. “I don’t want to talk about the possibility of losing my father.” He dismissed quickly, “I don’t know. I fear what I have done, I fear what I can do, I fear what I might do, and I despise the mere notion of what I am or the abstract notion of what I am.” He was content in her memory, and didn’t want to leave. The serenity was enough to calm even the most violent of storms. Yet on the outside of her memory lurked more memories that he didn’t want to explore, but knowing Sakarra, she would go between each memory with him, and use the Vulcan Logic on him. “Sakarra…” he started but quieted not sure of what to say or even what he wanted to say.

“I know.” She allowed herself a small sigh and then indicated their surroundings with a small gesture of her hand. “This is not merely a memory, Cyrin Dicari. Your senses are already telling you that this entails much more than that. Trust them.” She could tell he did not want to leave here, that it was the most profound sense of peace he had felt in a long time indeed. What he did not understand quite yet, was that he would have to find the equivalent of this within himself, rather than simply share what another was offering. Still, she could not help but be gratified that at least he was experiencing a respite from his suffering. “You do not wish to talk about it … you do not wish to face any aspect of it would be more to the point. And no, I still do not believe that arie’mnu is the way for you. Vulcans are wary of the ocean because we know all to well how terribly deep it is. It is the grace of your heritage that you can swim within, even dive at your pleasure, without succumbing to the temptation to give yourself over to everything it is.”

A Betazoid hating and fearing his emotions was rather like a Pacifican unwilling to return to the sea. Unwise, unnatural, and in the long term physically damaging. But there really was only one way to remind him that he was by nature an excellent swimmer. “You are not blind, in any sense of the word. You merely insist on keeping your eyes and mind closed.” In an instant, the peaceful scenery dissolved and the two young people were surrounded by dark clouds, coalescing and feeding off each other in a frenzy that would drown out even the most violent rainstorm. “Here ‘They’ are, Cyrin Dicari. The choice is yours.”

Reaching out towards one of the dark clouds, the young Vulcan allowed it to gain hold, not inviting but not fighting either. “I must disagree with your philosopher who said ‘Fear fear itself’.” It was one of her own, vague and hazy but no less violent for it. With an air of mild interest Sakarra let the lingering unease wash over her and examined it’s origin once more. “Dakh'uh pthak - cast out fear. It simply means you cannot be afraid to open your eyes and mind to see things as they truly are.” Around the young Vulcan’s unmoving figure, the patch of darkness swirled and then dispersed as if it had never existed. “Nam-tor ri ret na'fan-kitok fa tu dakh pthak. There is no room for anything else until you cast out fear.”

His shoulders stiffened when the memory of Sakarra’s faded away to reveal the blackness that was his storm…his ocean. Sakarra was his boat, he was the oarsman. He looked at her for a moment, and then started to walk. The memory of his father’s hospitalization was over, he was unsure of what to expect next. A dark, almost midnight black, mist began to encircle them. Cyrin looked for Sakarra and moved a bit closer into her ‘light’. As the mist settled, he found himself on the Charon in his quarters. It had been torn apart. He recognized the memory immediately and this had also been a memory that Sakarra was well aware of.

Cyrin watched as he seen a months earlier version of himself picking things up from the floor, “Come! As long as you’re someone other than the Commodore!” his voice bellowed at the door in pure rage.

“There was a replicator system error reported in this section so I’m checking over all the replicators on this deck.” The Ensign made his way to the replicator setting a toolkit on the floor and opening it before asking “What has you so worked up Cadet?”

Cadet Dicari made to go tap his commbadge that wasn’t in the room, looking at the officer, “Do I have to answer you, or should I ‘remember my place’?” The cadet asked snidely as he kicked an article of clothing under the couch.

“Don’t have to if you don’t want,” the Ensign smiled, as he took off the replicators control panel.

“That damned Romulan want to be Commodore banned me from the bridge, all because I turned down a promotion to Ensign. So I relieved myself of duty, you know no sense in being on duty if you can’t perform your duty as the Chief Ops Officer huh?”

“Banned you from the bridge for refusing a promotion?” The Ensign repeated “sounds crazy,” he pulled a scanner out of the tool kit and ran it through the circuitry having a Romulan running a ship is bad business. Don’t understand why they did it personally.”

The hatred could be felt and heard in Cyrin’s voice, this was the memory that he had shown Sakarra in sickbay, when they were attempting to locate the officer responsible for Cyrin’s action. Cyrin felt that emotion and realized that he was the one responsible for that action. “Why did this memory come up Sakarra? Didn’t you help me to deal with it already?” he asked puzzled.

“Help you with?” She shook her head and raised a brow at the question. “In sickbay I did nothing more than what you had asked. Observe and remember. Considering the circumstances I felt it an inexcusable invasion of your privacy to look more closely at what prompted your actions although I must admit it was difficult at times. No two melds are ever the same and more often than not, a Vulcan accessing another’s mind will feel like a large Sehlat in a small room full of fragile items. One hardly dares to breathe, let alone stretch of flex a muscle for fear of breaking something precious. Unless of course,“ there was a small, melodious laugh when a memory of Warya surfaced, particularly the one involving a huge paw and a vase, knocked over by accident and then nudged out of view by a mildly embarrassed furry giant “one is given ‘the run of the place’ so to speak. Or the meld involves two Vulcans, which is a matter all unto itself.”

Her hand moved through the black swirls that still wafted around them and she looked at the memory, again frozen in time. “No, Cyrin Dicari. The only help I can give you is to make you see clearly. And you have done that just now, or at least begun to. You know very well what caused your emotions and what led you to follow them. Yes, the stranger used you and set you on a course which otherwise you may not have taken. It is the fact that you allowed him to, which haunts you.” Another wave of her slender fingers made the dark mist retreat slightly and she looked up at Cyrin. “Remember, reflect, understand. You are allowed to forgive yourself. But do not deny yourself the clarity of remembering this. How else will you understand what happened and recognize the danger if you ever face it again?”

Her words were starting to make sense to him. He watched her play with the dark mist before answering, “I understand.” He watched as the memory before him began to play out again.

Cadet Cyrin had a quizzical look on his face “It would appear the rumors are true, a fist fight with the Ambassador…that’s immediate grounds for unbecoming an officer and court marshal. Then telling me to stay off the bridge when I am well within my rights to decline a promotion that I wasn’t personally ready for…” the Cadet shook his head.

“There’s a group of people in Starfleet who completely agree with you Cadet,” the Ensign began, “they sent me here on Charon to keep an eye on her. You discovered the strange power signature on the planet correct?” The Ensign asked.

The memory paused for a moment as Cyrin took in what had happened, before it continued later on during that encounter.

“I have friends in high places. You’ll get your position back, maybe more, when you feel you’ve earned it.” The Ensign said shaking his head, “But I’m surprised you’d put personal agenda over the fate of millions of innocent beings.

“I wanted to see what you would offer. Besides one should never reveal their deck of cards until they have a very good feeling of the other persons deck of cards. So yes you have my help. What do I need to do?” Cadet Cyrin asked.

The memory stopped, and Cyrin stood there open mouthed, “I let hatred trick me into being deceived. I wanted to kill her,” Cyrin stated “I figured that if I could get rid of her that I would move up quickly and actually be placed in Research and Development for Starfleet. I was stupid, I let hatred rule me.” He said shocked at the epiphany he had just had.